You Need To Mean It
by PaleLittleGirl
Summary: Harry thought he loved Severus Snape, but love can quickly turn to hate. Or something worse. HPSS. ONESHOT. Please R&R.


**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

**A/N- Just finished the seventh book, and it inspired me to write this. Don't ask me why. **

**You Need To Mean It **

"How could you do it, how _could you do it, how could you JOIN HIM? _HOW COULD YOU TAKE THE MARK, AFTER EVERYTHING I, EVERYTHING THE ORDER, HAS DONE FOR YOU? YOU STUPID, UNGRATEFUL LITTLE FUCK!"

Harry listened to this tirade calmly, idly twirling his wand in his long fingers as Tom Riddle had done in the Chamber of Secrets so many years ago. The man before him understood so little.

"Answer me! Answer me, Potter!" Severus Snape looked drained and tired, old and broken. Perhaps a few months ago Harry would have felt regret at having caused this, but not anymore. No more regret, now that he knew.

"Back to Potter now, are we? What happened to 'Harry', Sev?" He spoke evenly, giving no outward sign that he desperately wanted to throttle his old Potions Master, scream in his face, savagely beat him to a bloody pulp. That was for later. He felt oddly light, now, like a huge burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. And really, one had; the fate of the wizarding world was no longer his responsibility. How ironic, that it was love, the power the Dark Lord knew not, that had been the reason for his conversion from the Light. If only Dumbledore could see him now.

The two men were standing in the sitting room of a small, unremarkable Muggle flat somewhere in London. Severus had Confunded the owner and decided to keep the place for himself some months previously. Voldemort knew nothing of the flat, and if he did have knowledge of it, or of why Snape had wanted it in the first place, he would have been...displeased.

"I'm hungry," Harry said, casually strolling over to the fridge in the small, dimly lit kitchen. It was early in the evening, around seven, and he, having been busy recieving the Dark Mark and shown around Riddle's headquarters all day, had not eaten since that morning. "Really, Severus," he commented as he searched for food, "You really need to keep this thing better stocked. I mean, seriously, moldy cherry preserves and leftover chinese? Where is your dignity?" Having seen nothing worthy of satisfying his hunger, Harry sauntered over to the lumpy old couch that Snape had collapsed into moments ago. He sat easily, putting his feet up on the coffee table, twining his fingers behind his head and leaning back. A small television had been placed on a stand in front of them, and The Boy Who Lived switched it on with a handy bit of wandless magic Voldemort had taught him. Not a bad guy, really, he thought as a rerun of some shitty Muggle sitcom appeared before his eyes. Not as bad as the man sitting next to him.

Severus Snape seemed to have fallen into a catatonic trance, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He still could not fathom the fact that Harry, _his Harry, _had betrayed the Order, as well as Snape himself. It was impossible. Impossible.

And yet he knew that it was indeed possible, even probable, and had known for quite some time. Of course, he turned a blind eye to this knowledge, believing that Harry, despite his flaws and his darkness, was not capable of this horrific act of deception and evil. Obviously, he had been wrong, as he had been wrong about so many other things. He wondered, for a wild, desperate moment, if the handsome young man next to him had done it to spy on the Dark Lord, to gather knowledge of his plans, as Severus had. Wishful thinking. Even Harry wasn't stupid enough to try that. Was he?

"I know what you're thinking, Sev, and you're right. I didn't do it for the Order, I did it for me. Oh, _come on,_ don't look at me like that. I know you well enough to guess what goes on in that mind of yours without Legilemency." There was a strange undercurrent to Harry's voice, as if he was just barely controlling some horrible rage inside of him. "You know I'm shit at reading minds, anyway."

Snape said nothing to this, and merely sat there, impassive and silent, as it grew darker outside. He wondered if the Order was worried about Harry, if they thought he was captured. He felt oddly disconnected from what was happening, as if he was watching the horror movie instead of living it. There was a sudden movement beside him, and he realized Harry was rising from his seat.

The young wizard stretched casually, and Severus caught a glimpse of pale flesh underneath his simple black shirt as he did so. "I'm going to get a glass of water. You want something?" Taking his companion's silence as a no, Harry once again found himself in the kitchen, heart pounding in his ears. Why, he wondered as he held a plastic cup under the running faucet, was he waiting so long? What was stopping him from pulling his wand from his pocket and cursing the man, here and now? He knew the answer, he just didn't like it. Taking a sip of lukewarm tap water, he realized he didn't want to just curse Severus, he wanted the older man to start the conversation that Harry had been waiting months to have. He, in effect, wanted to have it out with him, sans wands. He set the cup back on the counter, took a deep breath, and strode back into the other room. He was not some scared little boy anymore, and Sev would see it, before the end.

Snape was already on his feet, waiting for the him, when he walked in. The two glared at eachother for a moment, and Severus, as he always did, felt a faint annoyance that Harry was actually slightly taller than him. The inch seemed a mile when they fought, and that was often. A maniacal gleam shone in the younger man's eyes, but the Potions Master did not notice. He was too busy trying to put his feelings into words, which was not one of his many specialties.

"Harry," he began, his usually smooth, menacing voice hoarse, "What you have done...you must know- the Dark Lord will only keep you around for so long, before he feels threatened. He will kill you, understand? _He will kill you."_ This was not all he wanted to say, but it was easier to state the obvious, rather than what ran under the surface.

Harry smiled coldy. "I doubt it. We've made an arrangement, he and I. I don't care about that, anyway. Tell me, how do you feel, about what I've done?" He did not bother to disguise the eagerness in his voice.

Severus was taken aback. If he had expected any reply, that certainly was not it. "How do I feel? _How do I FEEL?_ Harry-" he was at a loss for words. "Harry...you know. I am saddened, I'm shocked-"

"SHOCKED? Why is that, _Sevie? _BECAUSE MY MOTHER COULD NEVER HAVE DONE WHAT I HAVE DONE, MY MOTHER COULD NEVER DO SOMETHING AS TERRIBLE AS BETRAYING THE ORDER AND JOINING THE DARK LORD? DOES THAT SHOCK YOU, THAT I HAVE DONE SOMETHING THAT DOES NOT REMIND YOU OF HER? DO YOU THINK SHE WOULD BE ASHAMED, IF SHE WERE NOT DEAD, DEAD AND BURIED, WITH HER CORPSE ROTTING IN THE GROUND?"

Snape went white. "Harry-"

"THAT'S RIGHT, SEVIE! SHE IS DEAD! LILY POTTER IS DEAD! DOES THAT MAKE YOU _SAD, _TO THINK OF IT? OR DO YOU COMFORT YOURSELF WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU HAVE ME? ME, SEVIE? THAT YOU HAVE ME TO FUCK WHEN YOU MISS HER, YOU HAVE _MY EYES, _THAT WERE SO MUCH LIKE HERS?"

Severus shook his head madly. He had to make the boy understand. "No, no, no, That's is not why I-"

Breathing like he had just finished a marathon, Harry gave the other man a dismissive wave. "Don't bother to deny it, Snivellus. When you look at me, you see her. But it must drive you _crazy_, that I look so much like James. Nothing's perfect, I guess, eh?" he chuckled bitterly to himself. "You know, I love you. Loved, I suppose. I don't know. It's stupid," he said more to himself than to Snape."I thought, wow, _he gets me_. He doesn't treat me like some savior, like everyone else. He treats me like a person."

The older man felt an odd prickling feeling in his eyes as he spoke. "Harry, I know. I did an incredibly self centered thing-"

Harry continued as though he had not heard. "A person. I had my friends, but they...they were limited. I didn't really realize that until after Sirius died. But you...it's stupid," he said again, anger creeping into his voice. "I thought you really cared about me, you know? I mean, I wasn't clueless enough not to know you had a thing for her, but...I didn't think you..._loved_ her," he whispered. "Imagine my surprise, when I looked into your memories. Imagine my surprise when I found that box of clippings about her. Silly little Potty, sees one sign of false affection and he's in love. Don't worry, I won't make that mistake again." He twirled his wand in his fingers again, glaring moodily into the darkness of the room. Thinking.

Snape realized it then, could have kicked himself for not understanding it earlier. Harry had brought him here, to the sight of their many clandestine trysts, to kill him. Had he really fallen that far, was he truly capable of murder? Staring at him, at those damned green eyes that so reminded him of his lost love, Severus knew the boy was. The man. The seventeen year old he had so selfishly taken into his bed. The worst part was, he thought morosely, he actually _liked _Harry. He liked how stubborn and brave he was, admired his loyaltly and respected his considerable power and knowledge. Initial lust had lent itself to like, he supposed, it was bound to happen. If it hadn't, the two would have killed eachother long before this.

Harry turned to him, wand still twirling, and smiled humorlessly. "So, Sev-sorry, _Severus,_ here we are, you and me."

Snape swallowed nervously. He could more than defend himself against the young wizard, but he didn't know that he completely wanted to. He deseverved pain, deserved suffering. And he had nothing more to live for, so it didn't really matter. "Yes.You and me."

The Boy Who Lived grinned ferally at him. "You know, don't you?"

Severus gave a curt, final nod. "Yes. I just want to tell you that I... I am truly sorry. For everything."

The savage grin vanished and an odd look flitted across Harry's face. "I don't need your apology, Sevie. I don't want it, either. Besides, you don't mean it. Goodbye."

Before he reply, before he could tell the Order's betrayer that he meant it with all of his heart, there was a flash of green light and Severus Snape's lifeless body fell to the floor.

Harry Potter stood over the it, breathing heavily, and wondered why he didn't feel the way he expected. An intense and unexpected sadness gripped him, and for a moment he was engulfed with regret.

But there was no regret. Not anymore. And it was just as Bellatrix Lestrange had said, you need to mean it to cast an Unforgivable. Fancy that.

Slowly, without looking back, he strode toward the door and exited the unremarkable Muggle flat, and stepped out onto a street somewhere in London, and made his way to the Headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix.

He wondered if they would be as shocked about his new allegiance as Sevie was.

Somehow, he doubted it.

**End Story.**

A/N- After reading the book, I really want to give Severus Snape a big hug. Concerning the story, I may write a prequel... Please Review!


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